Rosie
A Favorite Quote Of Mine:
May 11, 2010
May your neighbors respect you, trouble neglect you, the Angels protect you, and Heaven accept you!
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The Nancy III
Aug 7, 2009
This poem was written about a family who is very dear to me, and suffered the loss of many of their family members. They found refuge and peace when out on the sea.....on the Nancy III.
The Nancy III
She was a worthy born vessel
She floated and rocked with the sea
With a life of her own, and the memories she nestled
They called her, The Nancy III (three)
She weathered the storms
Like a mother who coddles her young
Granting them peace that allowed them to mourn
In the wake of the waters their weary cries forlorn
Sorrows evaporated like the sea spray
At the head of The Nancy’s helm
As she shimmered and shook them
Till their souls became free
With every swell of the sea
The Nancy buffered their pain
Giving them an escape
Of their reality, their bane
A destination not needed
Under The Nancy’s protection
So they drank and they laughed
And they emerged from her mast
She was much more then a vessel
With a bow and a stern
She was their friend
And they called her The Nancy III (three)
She was their friend
And they called her The Nancy Three (three)
Rosie Powell
August 6 2009
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Heading out to listen to Willie Nelson tonight and wrote this:
Jun 5, 2009
Country Night
My blue jean shorts;
Are frayed just right.
As I head out the door;
For a country night.
The guys in their hats;
And their blue jeans tight.
I prowl like the cats
For a country night.
My cowboy boots;
They feel so light.
My heels start to tap ;
For a country night.
With hand s in the air;
And my mood so right.
I wiggle on the floor
For a country night
The band hits that chord;
And yells, ‘ARE YOU AL-RIGHT?’
I shout with a hoot
‘For a country night!’
A country night.....lets have a country night!
A country night.......oh a country night
A country night.....lets have a country night!
A country night......oh a country night
Rosie Clare Powell
June 5, 2009
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Written on Mother's Day for Mom
May 13, 2009
MIRRORS OF LIFE
The mirrors reflection, can make me cringe.
But looking at Mothers, her rosy red cheeks.
My eyes see her story, wonderful memories to keep.
Each fold in her skin, each brittle small bone.
They tell of her journey, her mark in the stone.
I see all her beauty, it's more than just skin.
A bouquet of wisdom, soft kindness within.
My Mother is special, where a mirror cannot see.
And I cherish her love, and her love for me.
The mirrors of life, reflections I'm told.
Only touch our surface, only see the old.
The mirrors of life, reflections I'm told.
They don't see our beauty, they don't see our mold.
The mirrors reflection can make me cringe.
But when I look at my Mothers, I see deep within.
They tell of her glories, her tracks in the sand.
Her soft ways of showing, her breath in the wind.
The mirrors reflection, can make me cringe.
I can't see beneath, my owns skins fringe.
But Mothers is clear, it's clean, and bright.
I see in hers love, a love for life.
The mirrors of life, reflections I'm told.
Only touch our surface, only see the old.
The mirrors of life, reflections I'm told.
They don't see our beauty, they don't see our mold.
Rosie Powell
Mother's Day 2009
xo
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